He shook my hand and asked me to sit down, then looked at Lyle. ‘Is there anything more we can do for you, Lyle?’ Cathcart asked.
Finally getting the hint, Lyle said, ‘I was just leaving. Milt, call when you’re ready to leave and I’ll have one of my men escort you out.’ He turned and walked out of the room, thumbs stuck in his belt loops.
Cathcart sat down. ‘He’s a total idiot,’ he said. Looking up, he added, ‘Do excuse me. I hope he’s not a friend?’
I shook my head. ‘Not so you’d notice.’
‘Now you’re here about Jerry’s alibi, is that correct?’ Cathcart asked.
‘Yes. Can you tell me where he was between eight a.m. and three p.m.?’
‘Well, here of course,’ he said, settling back in his chair.
‘What about lunchtime?’ I asked.
‘I remember quite distinctly because after we found out about his wife, which was just later that afternoon, I was very careful to try to account for his time. I know how the police can be when a wife is murdered – always look at the spouse!’
‘And how would you know that, sir?’ I asked.
‘The telly of course!’ he said, grinning. ‘I love police dramas, don’t you?’
‘Not so much,’ I said. ‘About his lunch that day?’
‘Well, it wasn’t any different, really, than any other day, now was it? Jerry always brings a lunch in a very fancy divided carrier. He told me once it was leftovers from the meal the night before.’ Getting a faraway look in his eye, he said, ‘I wonder if different wives fixed the meals, and if he had three of those carriers instead of just one?’
‘You didn’t know about his family situation until recently?’
‘Goodness no! And, unfortunately, he’ll probably get let off. There’s a morality clause in the engineers’ contracts, and I do believe multiple marriage might be perceived as putting a damper on his morality, you see?’
‘So, he was here the entire lunch hour?’
‘Oh, yes. He didn’t leave at all. In fact, he didn’t take his entire lunch period, but rather helped me with a project I was working on. Jerry’s a very good engineer. I shall hate to lose him.’
‘You know of anybody around here who had it in for Jerry?’ I asked.
‘You mean someone else who might be the culprit?’ Cathcart asked, a big smile on his face. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin and thought about it. The smile was replaced with a frown. ‘Not that I can think of, I’m afraid to say. Jerry’s a very popular fellow, but wasn’t really chummy with anyone. I can see why now.’
‘Sir?’
He leaned forward. ‘The multiple wives thing! If you get chummy with people here, there’s always the possibility they might invite your family over for a meal/barbecue here. I do quite enjoy that, don’t you? And then he’d have to make the decision: which wife, don’t you see? And then you’d be required to return the favor, ask people to your house, and, Bob’s your uncle! That would be the end of that!’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Is Jerry here today?’
‘Oh, yes. No one has spoken to me yet about letting him go. I really do hate to lose him but, beyond the entire morality issue, there’s the talk.’
‘People are talking?’
‘Oh, yes. There are the awkward silences when Jerry walks into a room, and all that.’
‘Don’t you think that would blow over?’ I asked.
Cathcart thought about it. ‘Well, isn’t what he’s doing, the multiple wives, against the law here in the States?’
‘Technically,’ I said. OK, yeah, it was, but I wasn’t ready to start arresting people on that yet. Had a murderer to catch first. Besides, I didn’t have enough room in my jail for all the perpetrators of that particular crime.
‘Technically? Oh, I see. I’m sure the murder takes priority?’
‘Of course.’
‘But you’ll arrest him afterwards?’ Cathcart insisted.
‘We’ll be looking into certain irregularities,’ I hedged.
‘Hum,’ he said. Leaning forward rather eagerly, Cathcart asked, ‘May I use this with the higher ups? You see, if they see the possibility of Jerry not being arrested, and the Telecom name not being dragged through the mud, as it were, they might be disinclined to let him go, especially with a good word from his supervisor – me, of course.’
‘Sure, I don’t see why not,’ I said. I stood up. ‘So you’ll vouch for Jerry being here all day, especially during the critical lunch-hour period?’
Cathcart stood up. ‘Yes, definitely.’ He held out his hand and we shook.
‘Thanks for your time, Mr Cathcart.’
‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff,’ he said and I left his office. Neither one of us bothered to call Lyle Manford.
Jean Mcdonnell – Monday
I arrived at Carol Anne Hudson’s home in The Branches at 2:20 p.m., after being announced from the gate. I’d had to wait while the guard on duty called Carol Anne and got the OK to let me in. Carol Anne apologized profusely when I got to her house.
‘I’m so sorry! I’m so bad with the procedures here! If I’d called ahead and told them you were coming, you wouldn’t have had to wait!’
‘It’s no problem, Carol Anne. Really. I didn’t have to wait long.’
‘Please come in,’ she said, ushering me into her home.
She led me into the den where there were three playpens lined up, each with a sleeping baby inside.
‘Got your hands full, I see,’ I said quietly.
‘Yes,’ she said. I noted that she didn’t smile when she said it.
‘Something’s bothering you,’ I said.
‘The sheriff probably already told you. You don’t seem like a couple that keep secrets.’ She sighed and tears came to her eyes. ‘I thought Jerry and I were a couple like that, too.’
We were sitting next to each other on the sofa, and I reached out and touched her hand. When I did, the tears started flowing down her face. ‘They both lied to me. He and Mary both. I thought we had a union of trust, but obviously neither of them trusted me!’ Her head came up and she looked me in the eye. ‘Jerry impregnated Rene before their marriage. I was led to believe that she’d been impregnated by someone else, and that her marriage to Jerry was in name only. He still claims that’s true of the marriage, that he only slept with her that one time, but it’s hard for me to believe anything he says now. He and Mary didn’t trust me with the truth. Now I can’t trust him at all.’
‘What are you going to do with this information?’ I asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure. For the moment, I’ve asked Jerry to leave this house. I told him to go stay with Rene, but he refused. He opted instead to go stay with my mother and the boys.’ She laughed humorlessly. ‘Heck of a way to atone for his sins.’
‘I’m so sorry, Carol Anne,’ I said, still holding her hand.
She took a deep breath. ‘You know, I think the bigger of the two betrayals is Mary’s. We were like sisters. Truly. I trusted her with my life, with my children’s lives! And she kept this from me, lied to me. Said Rene wouldn’t say who the father was; that we were taking her in as good Christians! How could she lie about that? About doing a Christian deed? That’s like spitting in the face of everything we’ve done to help others!’ Carol Anne shook her head. ‘Not that I don’t hate Jerry right now. Believe me, I do.’ She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms over her body, holding herself as if she felt a sudden chill. ‘I just feel so alone right now.’
And I knew she was. A little over a week ago, Carol Anne thought she had the perfect family. Happy children, a loving husband, two sister-wives, one of whom was her mentor and best friend. Now she knew that all three of these people, her husband and both sister-wives, had been lying to her, betraying her trust. I could only imagine how alone she must feel.
‘If it’s any consolation, Jerry told Milt that he didn’t want to tell you for fear you’d leave him.’
> ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said bitterly. ‘Who else is going to take care of him now? Surely not Rene!’
The doorbell rang, jarring both of us. ‘Are you expecting someone else?’ I asked.
Just as I said that, one of the babies started to cry. I got my crutches and stood up. ‘You get the baby and I’ll get the door,’ I said, smiling at Carol Anne as I went to the front door.
There was a man standing there who looked vaguely familiar. He was holding a chainsaw in one hand. ‘Mrs Kovak, right?’ he said, holding out a hand that didn’t have a chainsaw in it. ‘David Bollinger. We spoke briefly at Mary’s funeral.’
‘Right,’ I said, smiling and taking his hand. ‘Please come in. Carol Anne’s in the den with the babies.’
He followed me into the den. Carol Anne was standing, holding Rene’s youngest, Michael, the six-month-old boy. ‘Sit,’ she said to me, ‘and take this one. I think he’s wet.’
I put down my crutches and did as she said. ‘Hi, David, sorry,’ Carol Anne said. ‘I didn’t expect you.’
‘I’m on my way to play golf. Thought I’d bring back Jerry’s chainsaw. Got that old dead tree taken care of.’
‘Well, come on,’ Carol Anne said, her voice sounding slightly miffed. ‘I’ll show you where it goes in the garage.’
‘Carol Anne!’ I called out as she was about to leave. ‘Diaper and wipes, please. This one’s not just wet.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry—’
‘Don’t worry about it! Diaper!’ I said, laughing. Carol Anne threw me a diaper, wipes, and a receiving blanket that I used to put under the baby while I changed him. I don’t get to play with babies that much since my son is now practically a grown-up, and I was having a grand old time, tickling and cooing when Carol Anne and David Bollinger came back in the room.
‘It was nice to see you again, Mrs Kovak,’ Bollinger said.
I looked up, ready to acknowledge the niceness of it all, when it hit me. Bollinger had a cleft chin. Rene’s baby lying on the couch had a cleft chin. Rene did not have a cleft chin. Quick mental fade-back to medical school: ‘If the child inherits two cleft chin genes from his parents, he would develop cleft chin by being homozygous to the trait. If he inherits only one cleft gene from his parents, he would still develop cleft chin by being heterozygous to the trait.’
In other words, the only way baby Michael could end up with a cleft chin was if one or both of his parents had the gene. Rene obviously did not. David Bollinger, on the other hand, obviously did.
Collecting my thoughts and putting them aside, I said, ‘It was nice seeing you, too, Mr Bollinger.’
To Carol Anne, he said, ‘Tell Jerry thanks for the loan.’
‘Why don’t you call Jerry on his cell phone and thank him yourself?’ she suggested.
Bollinger shot her a questioning look, but not getting an answer just said, ‘Well, bye, then,’ and headed out the door.
I struggled to my feet. ‘Carol Anne, come get the baby,’ I said as I maneuvered my way around the sofa. ‘I’ll be right back.’ I headed out the front door with my cell phone in my hand as Bollinger started his car and turned around to leave the cul-de-sac. I had an urgent call to make, but before I could even hit the speed dial, I saw Bollinger pull around to the street side of Rene’s house and sneak in the back door.
Milt Kovak – Monday
It took a minute before my wife’s recitation of an old medical school book finally registered. ‘You mean,’ I said, ‘that because Rene’s mystery baby has a cleft chin, and David Bollinger has a cleft chin, that David has to be the father?’
‘Exactly!’ Jean declared.
I sighed. ‘Honey, how many men do you think there are in Longbranch alone with cleft chins?’
‘Three,’ she said automatically.
That surprised me. ‘Three?’
‘Just a ballpark figure. But by national norms and the population of Longbranch, one could conjecture—’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘You got me. There are three. So who are the other two?’
‘How in the hell would I know?’ my wife answered with a touch of pissiness to her voice.
‘Well, you said—’
‘Whoever they are, they are not the ones I saw sneak into Rene’s house less than five minutes ago.’
‘Where are you?’ I demanded.
‘Standing in Mary Hudson’s front yard,’ Jean said.
‘Jesus! Get in the goddamn house! Bollinger could very easily be the killer! Damn, Jean!’
‘I’m going! I’m going!’ she said and I could hear her open and close the front door.
‘OK, good. Now stay there! Lock the doors! Both of you stay inside! I’ll be there ASAP!’
‘Don’t hurt yourself,’ my wife said.
I was heading out the door when Dalton stopped me. ‘Hey, Milt, I think I got an ID on that dead body we found behind Vern’s Auto Repair.’
‘I can’t now, Dalton, I gotta—’
‘But, Milt, you need to look at this . . .’
‘Damn it, Dalton! When I get back!’ I shouted at him and hightailed it out of the shop.
Jean Mcdonnell – Monday
I came back inside Carol Anne’s house. She was standing in the foyer. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.
‘Come sit down,’ I started.
‘No! You tell me now!’
I gave her a look. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather sit down. I may look terribly comfortable to you, standing her on these crutches, but the truth is they aren’t as comfy as they look.’
Carol Anne turned red and her hands flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, dear Lord! Jean, I’m so sorry! Please come in the den!’
Baby Michael, he of the cleft chin, was in his baby swing and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself batting at the toys hanging from the bar above the swing.
‘That was so rude of me . . .’
I shook my head. ‘It was rude of me, too,’ I said. I touched her hand again. ‘Carol Anne, I have something I have to tell you.’
Carol Anne closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly, I think in prayer. I waited. Finally, she opened her eyes and said, ‘OK.’
‘You know that dimple in baby Michael’s chin?’
She nodded her head, a skeptical look on her face.
‘He can only have that if one of his parents has one,’ I said.
‘But Rene doesn’t . . .’ Her eyes got huge. ‘David Bollinger!’ she said. ‘He does, doesn’t he? I didn’t know! Oh my God! He’s Michael’s father?’
‘It seems likely,’ I said.
‘Oh my God!’ Carol Anne jumped up. ‘Then he’s the one who killed Mary!’
Carol Anne ran for the door. I was trying to get my crutches to rush after her when the other two babies woke up screaming.
Dalton Pettigrew – Monday
Dalton stood there staring after the closed door as Milt ran out.
Holly came up behind him. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Dalton turned around, a sheet of paper from the fax machine in his hand. ‘I needed to show him this, but he wouldn’t look,’ Dalton said, a sad note to his voice. ‘It’s one of those missing persons’ reports you asked for. I really think maybe Milt needs to see it. Like real bad.’
‘What is it?’ Holly asked.
Dalton handed Holly the paper. It was a missing person’s report, with a picture of the man Dalton had found behind the dumpster at Vern’s. ‘Oh, you found him!’ she said, smiling up at Dalton.
‘Read that part,’ he said, pointing at a paragraph under the picture.
Holly read aloud, ‘Herman Nelson Walker, DOB 12/29/53, Caucasian, male, brown/brown, five foot five, 126 lbs. Reported missing by wife, Deborah Walker. Last seen leaving Brighton, Oregon, for Oklahoma (city unknown) to visit daughter, Rene Walker Hudson. Has not been heard from since 10/14/11.’
‘Rene Walker Hudson?’ Holly repeated. ‘But that’s the other Mrs Hudson, right? The youngest one?’
‘Yeah, that’s
why I thought Milt should know, you know? Like there could be a connection?’ Dalton surmised.
‘Oh, Jesus!’ Holly said, running for the radio. ‘I think he’s headed over there to the cul-de-sac now!’ she said, as she grabbed the radio handset and began to call out.
Milt Kovak – Monday
‘The DB’s who?’ I shouted into the radio.
‘Rene Hudson’s father!’ Holly shouted back.
‘You gotta be shitting me!’
‘Radio protocol, Sheriff!’ Holly shouted.
I threw down the radio and picked up my phone and called Jean.
‘Y’all still behind locked doors?’ I asked quickly.
‘I am, but Carol Anne ran over to Rene’s house after Bollinger! I couldn’t stop her, Milt.’
‘Ah, fuck!’ I shouted. ‘It’s not Bollinger! It’s Rene!’
Jean Mcdonnell – Monday
I was yelling, ‘What? What?’ into the phone, when the door opened and Lynnie, Mary’s oldest daughter, came in with her sisters. I could see the boys heading into Carol Anne’s old house. No one, thank God, was going near Rene’s.
‘Lynnie’s here! I’m going over there!’ I yelled into the phone. As I hung up, I could hear Milt screaming, ‘No!’ but ignored it. Turning to the teenager, I said, ‘Lynnie, all three babies are in the den. Please watch them. I’ll be right back.’
‘What’s going on?’ Lynnie asked, alarmed, no doubt, by what she’d heard me say on the phone. ‘Where’s Carol Anne?’
‘Lock the door behind me! Don’t let anyone in except me, Carol Anne, or the sheriff! Do you understand?’
‘What—?’
‘Do you understand?’ I yelled.
‘Yes, I understand!’ she said, coming up behind me as I rushed, as best I could, out the door. I heard her throw home the dead bolt as I made my way into the street of the cul-de-sac.
I can make good time when I really need to. On a straight course I can go as fast as the average jogger, and it only took a few minutes to make it to the front door of Rene’s house. It was the only one-story in the cul-de-sac. A red-brick house with a double front door of glass and hardwood. I tried the front door and it opened. Pushing it forward a crack, I stuck my ear to the door to listen. I could hear voices, but they weren’t near the door. I’d never been in Rene’s house and didn’t know the layout, but I figured they weren’t in the front of the house. I slipped through the front door and found myself in a fairly large foyer. In front of me was a rock wall, with openings on either side that led down a step to a living room. Peeking inside I could see that the rock wall was the back of a large fireplace. No one was in the living room.
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